


Something That Resembles Happiness Enough

by smileformemylovely



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actor Louis, Artist Harry, Broadway Louis, Glee reference, M/M, Mentions of Drugs and Drug Overdoses, Mutual Pining, One Night Stands, Sorry Niall but he is barely mentioned rip, angstish, fashion designer zayn, its basically just like pining and stupid gays, singer liam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26244382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smileformemylovely/pseuds/smileformemylovely
Summary: They were on the edge of being happy. They were happy enough.OrZayn and Louis have been best friends since they were children. No matter the country, no matter the coast, they were always LouisAndZayn.Maybe, just maybe, they could've been more.
Relationships: Gigi Hadid/Zayn Malik, Liam Payne/Harry Styles, Louis/Other Men, Luke Malak/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29
Collections: Louis and Men Fest





	Something That Resembles Happiness Enough

There was nothing Zayn liked more than stepping on the runway after a show. The lights, the polite clapping, the sense of accomplishment. The beginning, the forefront of the show, was a blackout of fabrics and last looks, but the ending? That was Zayn’s domain. 

And this was Zayn’s first Fashion Week. The first time he felt important enough to be called  _ designer. _

It was small, sure. An off tempo art gallery held a zig zag runway outlined in black and white rose petals, the same monochrome in the photos and paintings scattered on the wall. They were all done by the same artist, known only by his first name.  _ Jax.  _ Guests were instructed to wear black or white, and would be seated on vintage furniture Zayn had combed through eBay and thrift stores for, covered by black silks. 

Zayn didn’t want this to just be a show. This was his introduction to the big leagues. Zayn needed this to be an experience. He had everything planned: the music (live, performed by up and coming folk artist  _ Niall Horan _ ), the smell (subtle, changing with the models via infusers hidden among the space), the touch (the silks on the furniture was the softest Zayn could find anywhere), the taste (bubbly light champagne, paired with light green grapes and crackers served before the show, to cleanse the palate of everyone down to their taste buds), and most important: the visuals. 

The visuals that surrounded this show were going to be dynamic. It would start off simple, basic. Black, whites, hints of metallic in the makeup and accessories. Shifts, and shirtdresses, tailored black pants and flats. Ready to wear, one of his favorite classes at FIT. It would get more elaborate, using intricate beading and embroidery. And then, mid-show, a model would walk out, covered in a cape. The music would stop, the lights would drop, save a single spotlight on the model. It would be a held breath, a stop, a rest, before the model dropped her cape, revealing a stunning, brightly colored ball gown. The cape would turn into a train, the lights would come up and strobe, bouncing off carefully placed disco balls, and Niall would switch places with Liam Payne, a fresh faced pop star from the village an hour away from Zayn’s. The rest of the clothes were more and more avant garde, until his show shopper piece. A blood red lace bodice, the skirt bouncing three feet out, rainbow dyed lace ending in ink black satin. 

Zayn could barely breathe in anxiety. He was bouncing, going from Niall and Liam’s soundcheck, to his assistant (a girl a year younger than him from the Fashion Institute of Technology, earning credits for a class), before landing on make up, headed by Lottie Tomlinson. 

Lottie pulled him into a chair next to Cara Delevingne, his new favorite model. She called out to another model for a cup of tea, shoving it into his hands with a tsk worthy of her mother. 

“I can’t, Lottie, I have so much to do,” Zayn said. His voice had an edge in it. 

“You’re going to sit there and drink that tea. I also ordered some sandwiches, which you are also going to sit there and eat.” She turned to Zayn, brandishing a powder brush, fall out covering the floor. “Then you are going to get dressed and let me do your makeup before helping the girls into their beautiful clothes you have designed perfectly, then you are going to have your beautiful, perfect show, and after we’re going to that new club a block over. Clear?”  
Zayn hung his head sheepishly before sipping his tea, slightly less sweet than he preferred. “Yes, _mum_.” 

Lottie smiled at him imploringly. “Good, dear.” 

Cara laughed at them.

It had gone perfectly, just as Lottie said. 

‘ _ Always listen to the Tomlinson’s _ .’ Zayn reminded himself as he walked down the runway, following Cara in red, the models clapping. He got the end and blew kisses into the audience, mouthing thank yous. After he walked off, the models surrounded him, yelling and cheering, gripping his arms and shoulders. After they scattered to touch up their make up and adjust their accessories before going to mingle with the attendees in the gallery, Zayn headed to the make up station, where Lottie was cleaning her station, laughing and chatting to a familiar figure leaning on a makeup chair. Zayn recognised that laugh anywhere. 

_ Louis _ . 

Louis, his best friend since he was 6. His next door neighbor, who moved in two weeks before school. Zayn had been outside with Safaa, playing on their bikes, when the truck had pulled up next door and unloaded a family. Two kids, a loud young boy, a little blonde girl a year younger than Zayn, a dad, and a pregnant mom. Zayn could only watch for a moment before his mum had pulled him away to get dressed to go see his grandmother. But the little boy had come bounding up after the lunch the next day and asked Tricia if the pretty, little boy could play.

Louis, the first person he ever told he liked boys and girls, at the young age of 13. Louis had squeezed him hard and stroked his hair and told him not to cry. ‘ _ I like boys, too,’ _ Louis had whispered and Zayn had to giggle, because he and Louis were always on the same wavelength.

Louis, who had left the day after Zayn told him he was bisexual, for West End. He was in Newsies, in the company for the first season. He called Zayn everyday, late at night after each show, full of emotion. Sometimes he was excited and buzzing, telling Zayn about the dance move he had finally landed, or the boy who played Jack Kelly took him to tea and held his hand at the table, or the new book shop he had found roaming around London. Other times he was sad, angry because his voice cracked, or because the director had yelled at him for some meaningless thing, or because he was homesick, and missed Zayn and his mum and his sisters. Zayn told him about the dance he went to with Amy, or the test he had thought he failed, or how he missed Louis more. They told each other everything those late nights, secrets and stories traded across phone lines. When Zayn got his first cell phone, Louis’ number was the first one in. Their late night phone calls went away, but they texted until Tricia yelled at Zayn for going over his minutes. 

Louis, his best friend, his confidante, and the boy he had been in love with since he was 15, when Zayn had seen him for the first time in six months. Louis was taking a break from the West End, before flying to New York to join Spring Awakening. Zayn was slightly taller than him, but Louis felt the same when Zayn hugged him. ‘ _ Hiya, Z _ .’ Louis even giggled the same. Louis stayed a week but it went by in a minute for Zayn.  _ ‘New York, Lou! Broadway!’  _ Zayn whispered the night before Louis’ plane left. They spent the night at Louis’ house, slightly more crowded with an addition of twins. They slept in Louis’ bed, facing each other. Louis reached out and grabbed Zayn’s hand  _ ‘Broadway.’  _ Louis grinned. ‘ _ You'll join me. Two years. F. I. T’  _ Zayn squeezed Louis’ hand. The Fashion Institute of Technology. It was his dream school. ‘ _ We’ll get a flat, me and you,’  _ Louis said.  _ ‘You'll design all my clothes for the red carpets and I'll sit front row at every Fashion Week show. We’ll take over New York.’  _ Zayn smiled at the  _ we.  _ That's the moment he fell in love with Louis Tomlinson. His overwhelming ambition included Zayn without a second thought.  _ Me and him.  _ They fell asleep like that, hand in hand. And then, the next morning, Zayn and Louis’ mum took Louis to the airport. Zayn never forgot the way Louis pressed his lips to his cheek. 

Louis was the reason Zayn got into FIT. Zayn visited him over summer break the year he turned 18. Louis was 18 and hadn't grown an inch since Zayn had seen him the year before. They stayed at Louis’ apartment, a small two bedroom in Queens. He shared it with another actor, Luke, who played Melchior in Spring Awakening. Next door was a tall, broad artist who scowled at them when Louis took over take out. ‘ _ Take it, Harry. I know you haven't eaten today.’  _ Harry would roll his eyes and take it, retreating to the brightly lit studio. Zayn told Louis he was pretty sure Harry hated him. Louis shrugged and they had gone about their days until they had come back after a late movie after Louis’ show, and a canvas sat by their door. Zayn and Louis were painted next to each other, arms around the other's necks, grinning. Louis nudged Zayn. ‘ _ Still think he hates me?’ _ Zayn laughed and carried the painting in. The next day, Louis had woken them both up early and they had travelled downtown to FIT. Louis introduced Zayn to the Dean, who was married to the costume designer of Louis’ show. Zayn was star struck and the dean impressed when Louis dug out folders from his backpack and spread them on the dean’s desk. Inside, Louis had printed every single picture of every single garment Zayn had sown,courtesy of Zayn’s mother. Zayn was dumbfounded. The dean shook his hand and told him to tell him when he started his application. The same dean shook his hand the same way when Zayn walked the stage at his graduation, Louis cheering for him the same way Zayn had when Louis won his first Tony. 

Louis was  _ here.  _ At Zayn's first fashion week. Just like he said he would.

Zayn snuck behind Louis and reached out. His hands snuck under Louis’ suit jacket and tickled the sides of his waist. Louis let out a shout of laughter and his body twisted under Zayn’s hands. When Zayn finally let up, Louis spun around and wrapped his arms around Zayn’s neck, tendrils of laughter still hanging around them. Zayn hugged him back, grinning. Louis might not have grown since he was 16, but Zayn had grown and now stood a few inches taller than him. 

“You came!” Zayn exclaimed, squeezing Louis around his waist. 

“Always said I would! Sat right in the front, too.” 

Zayn held Louis for another beat before he pulled back. He left his hands in the dip of Louis’ waist and Louis left his on Zayn’s shoulders. He felt the edge of Zayn’s suit jacket, rubbing at a lipstick stain a model had left on the fabric. 

“I thought you had a show? Wasn’t that reviewer coming?”

“I let the understudy take it. New kid. He deserves it. There will be other reviews, other shows. But there will only be one time that you have a show during Fashion Week for the first time.” Louis reached up and placed his hand on Zayn’s cheek. “And you are more important than any reviews.” Zayn grinned and squeezed once at Louis’ waist. 

“Did you like it?” 

Louis grinned back. “Liked it? Zayn, it was fucking brilliant! Breathtaking. You’re brilliant!” 

Zayn beamed. 

Behind Louis, Lottie cleared her throat. “I’m done here, so I’m going to go find Tommy. Come find me when you’re ready to leave.” 

After she took off into the gallery, Zayn turned back to Louis. “I should go mingle. You’ll come out with us tonight? Lots is gonna drag me to this club.” 

“Who do you think is dragging Lots? “ Louis went back to rubbing at the lipstick mark on Zayn’s lapel. Zayn’s cheek felt cold. “I’ve missed you.” 

Zayn squeezed at Louis’ waist again. “I saw you three days ago.” 

“We live together, Zayn, I’m used to seeing you at least every day.”

“You’ve been over at Justin’s house half the time, and I had the show to set up. I’ll be home more often now.” 

Louis bit his lip. “I broke up with Justin.” Louis wrinkled his nose. “He asked me to move in with him.”

“You were his boyfriend!”

“Of six months!”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Commitmentphobe.” 

“He cried when I told him.” 

“I would cry too, damn Lou, have you seen yourself?” 

“He was boring. I’m never dating a banker again.” 

Zayn shook his head. “Stockbroker at one of the biggest firms in Manhattan.” 

Louis rolled his eyes this time. “Same thing.” 

“You didn’t say he was boring when he bought you that La Perla underwear and handcuffs last month.” 

“See, Zayn, he made handcuffs boring!” 

Zayn tapped him on the nose. “No, you’re a commitmentphobe, and you’re going to call him tomorrow. He really liked you!” 

Louis shifted on his feet. “Have lunch with me tomorrow instead.” 

Zayn took a breath. “Fine.”

Louis grinned and pressed his lips to Zayn’s cheeks. “Go mingle. I’m going to find Harry.”

“Your vampire is lurking around the edges somewhere.”   
“I’m gonna drag him out tonight, too.”

“Have you met Liam? You should meet him.”

“For me or Harry?” 

“I think he and Harry would get along.” Louis started humming the Matchmaker song from Fiddler under his breath. “You know me, Lou, I’m a hopeless romantic.”

“You’re hopeless alright,” Louis mumbled under his breath. Zayn pinched at Louis’ side. Louis grinned and pushed at Zayn’s shoulders. “Go mingle. I’ll go find the vampire.”

Before he left, Zayn pulled Louis back into a hug and nuzzled into the side of Louis’ hair. “Thanks for coming,” he whispered. 

Louis squeezed back. “Of course, Z.”

That night at the club, Zayn did shots with everyone and danced with a pretty blond boy who kissed his neck too wetly. Louis flirted with a tall man, dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin gleaming under lights. But it was Zayn Louis pulled into a taxi that night, and it was Louis Zayn tucked under the covers and left a bottle of water and an aspirin on the night table for. Louis dreamt about dark eyes and Zayn tangled caramel coloured hair in his dreams.

The next day, Zayn and Louis dragged themselves out of bed at 11 and down the street to their favorite diner. They ordered their hangover food from their regular waitress. They had started going here when they first moved to their Brooklyn apartment, Zayn's sophomore year of FIT. It wasn't too tiny, considering Louis had changed to the lead role in RENT, and Tricia and Yaser helped Zayn out, alongside his full ride scholarship. Zayn had gotten a job on the diner on the weekends, waiting tables and packaging to go orders. It was enough to help pay for fabrics and accouterments, pocket money when he and Louis went out. 

Rose brought their food, eggs and toast and coffee filling their table. They chatted while Louis ran his finger around the rim of his coffee. 

When their table was clear and their coffee drained, Louis took a deep breath. 

“You remember that pilot I did? A few months back?”

“Zachary was definitely a NASCAR driver, Louis,” Zayn said softly. 

“Jackass.” Louis kicked Zayn on the shin, barely leaving a mark on his jeans. 

“That singing high school show?” 

Louis bit his lip. “It got picked up.” Louis grinned. “I'm gonna be on TV.” 

Zayn's mouth dropped and he reached for Louis’ hand. “That's amazing! Holy shit, Lou!” Zayn's brow wrinkled for a moment. “What about your show?” 

Louis bounced his thumb on Zayn’s knuckles. “My contract is almost over and the director agreed to let me go at the end. He's so happy for me. The understudy is ecstatic. It'll be his first as a lead and he’s fucking brilliant, Zayn. My last show is next month.” 

“When does filming for the pilot start?” 

“Week after my run ends.” 

Zayn brought his other hand and covered both of theirs with it. “In L.A.?” 

Louis’ free hand traced over the other occupied ones. “For six months. I found a place there. Not a permanent one, not right now.” 

“You'll always have a place here.” 

“That's what Joe said. ‘ _ There will always be a place on Broadway for Louis Tomlinson.’”  _

“Our lease is almost up. I'll get a new place.” 

‘ _ Come with me,’  _ Louis thought. ‘ _ Be an LA designer. Be with me.’ _

‘ _ Ask me to come with you,’  _ Zayn thought. 

“You'll always have a place in LA,” Louis said instead. “All those celebrities are going to be begging for your designs.” 

Zayn smiled. “You'll let me design all your red carpet outfits?” 

“Are you kidding? Did you see how many best dressed lists I was on last Tony Awards? I don't know what Jonathan was more mad about, the fact I won the award over him or the fact my suit was better than his.” Louis fiddled with a loose thread on Zayn’s sweater cuff. 

“I'll miss you,” Zayn blurted. 

“Please, you won't even know I'm gone.”

Zayn flipped his hand over and gripped Louis’ free one. “I always know when you're gone.” 

Louis’ bottom lip slipped into his teeth. “I always know when you're gone, too.” 

And it didn't make sense, but Zayn understood him perfectly. 

‘ _ I'll always come back to you.”  _

“You gonna tell Zayn you love him before you leave?”

Louis choked on his tea. He turned an owl eyed stare to Harry, who was standing at an easel, painting his latest obsession-Liam. Said obsession was currently passed out in Harry's bed, fresh off of a plane from London. 

Louis cleared his throat. “I'm sorry?”

Harry didn't even look up from his painting. “Are you going to tell Zayn you love him before you go?”

“I don't...I...love? Zayn? No… I don't….I don't love Zayn, except, friend. He's my friend, that's...no,” Louis stuttered out, slamming his coffee cup down.

Harry gave Louis a bored look. “Bull. You've been in love with him since I've met you.”

Louis gaped at Harry. “I...no.” 

“Yes. Why do you think none of your relationships work out?” 

“Because I lead a very busy life being a very big performer on Broadway and most of the men I date are very dominant and don’t like that I'm wildly successful and independent.” 

Harry snorted. “Let me tell you how your relationships go. You meet a guy, flirt, fuck, fall for him, five or six months later they tell you they love you, or ask you to move in or meet their parents or go on a trip or marry them. You freak, no matter how much you like them, dump them, and then start over again or have a string of one night stands. Rinse. Repeat.” Harry picked up his brush again, squinting as he made some detail changes to Liam's hair. 

“What does that have to do with Zayn?” Louis said, shaking his head. “That could just mean the guys I date suck.”

Harry flicked his paintbrush at Louis. Louis felt the cold drips of paint hit his nose. 

“That could mean one of two things. One,” Harry pointed a finger at Louis. “You have a deep mistrust of men because your father left when you were born, the man you called dad cheated on your mom and left, and then your first boyfriend got into coke and almost died. Now you're afraid if you get close to someone, they'll hurt you like everyone else has done. Instead of avoiding relationships, however, you have an intense fear of being alone and left alone with your thoughts, so you jump into relationship after relationship, until it gets too intense.” 

Louis glared at Harry. “You take one intro to psych and suddenly you're Freud? I…”

Harry interrupted with another intense flick of his brush, leaving paint splatters on Louis’ cheek. “Or you have feelings for Zayn and don’t want a huge commitment to someone because secretly, deep down, you're hoping Zayn will get on one knee, confesses his love for you, and for you two to ride off into the sunset together. Which won't happen, because Zayn is oblivious to how much you love him. So he's stuck watching you date men you'll never love and you're stuck pretending you don't have feelings for him.” 

Louis looked at his hands and picked off a hangnail, the sharp sting of pain keeping him grounded. “You're wrong.” 

Harry raised an eyebrow. 

“The first part, fine…but Zayn doesn't have feelings for me.” 

They both stilled when Liam stirred on the bed in the corner of the studio loft. Harry’s face grew soft and fond when Liam reached for the pillow next time and curled around it, burying his head into the softness. 

“Are you sure?” Harry’s knitted brow and tilted head told Louis Harry didn't believe him. 

“His first semester, I went over to his after finals were over and we had a few drinks and then I kissed him and he kissed me back and it got…heavy.”

_ It had been cold, but Louis and Zayn snuggled under a comforter. Louis had painted Zayn’s fingernails and after, Zayn dug them into Louis’ neck and back and feet. They were then on their third fruity alcohol thing Louis had picked up at the bodega. (‘I’m already a gay broadway star, let's not pretend I'm not a stereotype and watch me choke a beer down.) Louis was leaning on Zayn’s chest, throwing popcorn at the tv screen whenever Andy’s boyfriend appeared during  _ A Devil Wears Prada _. _

_ “We’re out of popcorn, Zayn.” Louis had said, holding the bowl up for Zayn to examine. It was full of half popped and unpopped kernels. Zayn snagged a half popped piece and crunched down.  _

_ “They're all over the floor.” Zayn sighed and buried his face in Louis’ hair. “I'm so tired.”  _ _ Louis stroked a hand down Zayn's arm around his waist. “Are you excited to go home?” _

_ Zayn nodded. “Wish you were coming.”  _

_ "Christmas is just so busy. I'll skype you during presents, though. And New Years. And when I'm feeling needy.”  _

_ "So you're gonna skype me twenty four seven?” Louis frowned. The credits started to roll across the screen and they stayed still, Zayn’s breath tickling the back of his neck, Louis stroking Zayn’s arms and hands, eyes closed. Zayn moved his head so it was tucked in Louis’ collarbones, his lips brushing the exposed skin.  _

_ “Zayn?” Louis said. Zayn rolled his head to side, a sleepy smile gracing his cheeks. Alcohol coursed through his veins, making Louis feel funny in his chest. He twisted his head awkwardly and pressed his lips to Zayn's. Zayn took a startled breath and squeaked. Louis pulled back suddenly. “Oh my god, I'm sor…”  _

_ But before Louis could finish his sentence, Zayn flipped around and Louis landed against the wall the dorm bed was pushed against. Then Zayn was kneeling in front of him, kissing him hard. Louis shifted his legs until Zayn got the point and, without breaking contact, pushed Louis on to the bed. He covered Louis’ body with his own, his hands on the outsides of Louis’ shoulders. Louis slipped his hands under Zayn’s shirt and around his waist, his nails digging into the skin covering his spine.  _

_ Zayn kissed hard and wet, tongue darting in and out of Louis’ mouth and running across his lips. When they had to breathe, Zayn would kiss and nip around Louis’ lips. Louis closed his eyes and let the passion run over him, pumping into his heart hazylike and out into his brain with clarity. When they finally pulled apart, Zayn looked down at Louis, wide eyed and panting. Louis was red faced and bit his lip before looking to the side.  _

_ Zayn leaned down and pressed his lips to Louis’ cheek. “We should get some sleep, it's late and I have to fly out tomorrow. God, we’re drunk.”  _

_ Louis’ head had never felt clearer. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” Zayn rolled to his side and pulled an unsuspecting Louis towards him. Louis made a sound high in his throat before Zayn pressed against his back and nuzzled his neck. Louis intertwined their fingers where Zayn's hand laid, resting on his stomach. Soon, Zayn was softly snoring, but Louis couldn't sleep. He kept running his fingertips around his lips, wondering if they looked different.  _

“It didn't go well, did it.” Harry didn't ask it like a question. 

Louis swallowed, against the heaviness in his throat and chest. “I brought it up once while he was gone. He shut it down.” 

_ It was sun up when Zayn called. Louis rolled onto his stomach and opened the call. Zayn's eyes weren’t smiling as much as they normally did. The knot in Louis’ belly grew tighter and he fought to keep from vomiting. He raised a finger to his lips and crept out of bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping man next to him. He snatched a pair of boxers next to his bed and tugged them on before heading to the living room. Louis curled like a cat on their overstuffed loveseat, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders.  _

_ “Hey, Z,” he said softly. “You're in trouble.”  _

_ Zayn ran a hand through his hair and rolled from his stomach to his side. He tucked a hand under his head and tilted the phone until Louis was sideways. “Am I?”  _

_ "You were supposed to call me when your plane landed.” Instead Zayn had texted him: _

Landed safe. Gonna spend some time with mum. Call you tomorrow. X

_ Zayn rubbed at his nose. “Sorry, Louis. Mum wanted to spend some time together.”  _

_ Louis forced a smile to his lips. “I get it.” Zayn hadn't called Louis ‘Louis’ since the time Louis had blown him off for a date when Louis was 16. Louis bit his lip. “Can we talk, Z, about Fri…”  _

_ "Who was in your bed?”  _

_ Louis pursed his lips. “Luke.” Zayn rolled his eyes. “Don't do that.” Louis had been drunk and sad and Harry had made pot brownies. Louis ate a whole one and cried on Luke’s shoulder because he was in love with his best friend and he was pathetic and sad and the biggest cliche. The next thing he had known, Luke was kissing him soft and light, and Louis had opened his legs and let Luke make him forget about Zayn for an hour. _

_ But now Zayn had a look in his eye Louis can't ignore and the knot in Louis’ stomach ventured up to his throat and Louis had to look away.  _

_ "Fucking don't, Zayn. Don't look at me like that.” _

_ "I didn't say anything!” Zayn rolled onto his back, leaving his phone partially propped on a pillow.  _

_ "Good.”  _

_ "You're just…”  _

_ "Stop it, Zayn.” Zayn covered his eyes with a hand. Louis bit his fingernail. “How's Mama Trish?”  _

_ "I can't do this. I'm sorry.” And then Louis’ screen went black.  _

_ And then Louis didn't hear from Zayn for three days. Zayn finally called him on his birthday, his voice happy and light, waiting for Louis to open his gift. They didn't speak of the kiss or Luke again. And the next time Luke came to Louis and pressed his lips to Louis’ throat, Louis pushed him on the bed and rode him until he came twice and forgot the way Zayn had looked at him.  _

“You never tried to talk to him about it again?” Harry asked. 

Louis shrugged. “No reason too. When he came home, he started dating Gigi and I started dating Will and both of us ended up miserable.” Louis cracked his knuckles and drained his tea before standing up. “So yeah, it was probably the first one. My dad, Jax, you know really fucked a dude over. I gotta go.” 

“I'll see you at the party tomorrow,” Harry said, turning back to his painting.

Louis bit his thumbnail. “Yeah, see you.”

_ It was late when Zayn got back to New York. He switched his flights to the day before classes started, and went straight to his dorm. He sent a quick text to Louis _ (landed. tired. ttyl. x)  _ before stripping out of his clothes and falling into bed.  _

_ He couldn't believe Louis had fucked Luke. Especially two days after he had kissed him. Zayn still dreamt about that kiss, the way Louis felt underneath him, the noises he made when Zayn had licked his bottom lip and pulled it between his teeth. The voice that had been his head all break came back with a vengeance.  _

_ ‘ _ You were drunk, he didn't mean it. You're his best friend. Besides, drunk Louis is a slag and kisses any man that moves near him. It didn't mean anything, except what you're saying it meant. Don't be so pathetic, Zayn, you're just an idiot in love with his best friend. A  _ cliche _ . And we both know how much Louis loves those.’ 

_ Zayn dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I know,” he said aloud. “He was drunk, he doesn't care. I'm pathetic.”  _

_ Still, Zayn couldn't help but remember Louis’ body underneath his, his soft tummy brushing Zayn's, the way he kissed like he needed Zayn like oxygen. He wondered if Louis would've let him take his shirt off and suck on his tiny, rosy nipples. He wanted to know if Louis would go soft and compliant if he left love bites on his collarbones, his ribs, his belly, working his way down his body, with an arching back and tiny moans. Zayn was curious if Louis was ticklish on his upper thighs and hips, the places too intimate for friends.  _

_ Zayn’s mouth grew dry and his cock went hard the thought. _

_ ‘ _ Don't do it,’  _ he told himself, his rebellious hand reaching itself to his pants. He sighed and undid his buttons and kicked them to the floor. He wrapped a warm hand around himself and jerked off, fast and dry, smearing precome around.  _

_He thought of Louis underneath him, moaning and digging his nails into his back, leaving marks that would sting anytime Zayn moved the next day. He thought about Louis writhing under him as Zayn coaxed a third orgasm out of him using only his tongue. He thought about Louis kissing him and falling asleep in his arms, and with that, Zayn came with a shout of Louis’ name._

_ “Pathetic,” he chided himself. “Pathetic idiot.” Zayn grabbed his stripped boxers and used them to clean himself, dropping them to the floor. “You're a fucking loser.”  _

_ The next day, Zayn was sitting in the campus coffee shop, sketching a suit, when someone approached him.  _

_ “This seat taken?” Zayn looked up to see Gigi, a model who he recognised from a class last year.  _

_ "No, no, please,” Zayn sat up and set down his pencil. She smiled at him and took a seat.  _

_ They talked for hours, Gigi tossing her hair and touching his arm. Zayn bought her a coffee, and then another, and then when he had to go to class, he asked her to dinner.  _

_ They dated for a year, and Zayn was happy enough. Gigi was funny and charming and got on with his friends, including Louis, who usually hated all of Zayn's partners. But she had the opportunity to go to France and took it. Alone. Zayn swore off dating after that, choosing to throw himself into school and internships.  _

_ He and Louis became close again. They never spoke about the kiss or Luke again, instead dancing round the awkward chasm in their relationship.  _

_ But they were happy enough. _

Zayn went with Louis to the airport two days later. They hugged outside the security line until the very last possible second, and then hugged for a minute more. Louis counted Zayn's heart beats against his ear, memorised the way his arms felt wrapped around him, took in the smell of his body wash. Zayn buried his nose in Louis’ neck, imprinted the way Louis’ waist felt wrapped in his arms, blinked away tears. 

“You'll always have a place here.” 

“You'll always have a place with me.” 

Louis is the one that pulled away, hand not so subtly wiping away tears. “I have to go.” 

“Yeah, no, of course. Call me, yeah? When your flight lands?” 

Louis nodded. “Course.” And then, sweetly, chastely, pressed his lips to Zayn's. He held it for a beat and pulled away. 

“I love you,” Louis said softly. It hung in front of them the way the words had never hung before. 

Zayn took a sharp intake of breath. “I love you, too.” 

Louis reached out and squeezed one of Zayn's hands with his. With that, he turned around and got in line, headed for the plane and then, finally, California. Zayn watched him until he couldn't see him anymore, and then left. He went to their favourite bar and took shots until he couldn't see straight anymore. Then, he took some pretty brunet with blue eyes home and fucked him in Louis’ bed. 

The second season of Louis’ show,  _ Glee _ , had been good to him.

Really, really good. 

He had collected his Emmy, his  _ first  _ Emmy, Zayn liked to say. Zayn had been his date, friend date, as usual. Louis wore a spectacular suit, a  _ Made by Malik _ , he liked to say. His stylists whimpered at the thought of turning away  _ Gucci  _ and  _ Yves St Laurent  _ and other names that impressed Zayn far more than they impressed him when he went with Louis to a fitting. 

_ "Louis, this is a  _ Tom Ford  _ suit, look at this, you would look amazing in this! You have to wear it.”  _

_ Louis tossed his head. “It's not a  _ Made by Malik.  _ I don't want it. Can we shorten this pant leg a little more and add another button to the waist?”  _

Zayn had certainly grown as a designer, climbing the ranks quickly. He had grown his studio in Queens, taking over the second floor of a warehouse. Zayn himself had moved an hour from the city, a small, quaint town of Warwick. 

_ “It's quieter here,” he had told Louis the next time he was in town. They sat at a quiet coffee shop, sipping tea, ignoring the awkwardness between them. “The city is amazing, but I feel like my designs are better here.” He didn't tell Louis the real reason. It was too quiet in New York, too small without Louis’ laugh and presence filling the avenues and rooftops. And their flat had become too large. He bought a condo and a used Jaguar and travelled into the city three or four times a week. He had deals worked out with Barneys and Saks and Macy's to design ready to wear for their stores and was speaking with stylists and management teams of minor celebrities to work out brand deals. Louis was singing his praises up and down the California Coast. Zayn was also doing very well.  _

_ "How's the show going?” _

_ Louis beamed. “Amazing, Z, amazing. Kurt’s, he's me if I went to high school. There's Emmy talk and we're renewed for two more seasons and,” Louis shook his head at this. “I've had so many young people come up and tell me how much they love Kurt and….and  _ me _ , Zayn, how much  _ I  _ inspire them and it's incredible. I've never been happier.”  _

_ Zayn swallowed at that, emotion welling in his chest. He reached and wrapped his fingers around Louis’. “I'm so proud of you, Lou.”  _

_ Louis grinned back up at him and squeezed his hand. _

‘You made New York feel too quiet,’  _ Zayn thought. _

‘I just wished you felt the same,’  _ Louis thought. _

__

Zayn was drinking his morning cup of coffee, perusing through the entertainment section, when he noticed an article with a familiar face, smiling at the reader. 

**Glee’s _Newest Hunk!_**

Glee  _ is gaining a new character this season, with a face familiar to anyone on Broadway.  _ Luke Malak,  _ 25, will join the show in its sophomore season. Malak has starred in three shows here in New York, most recently,  _ Spring Awakening.  _ It's rumoured he will play a love interest for  _ Louis Tomlinson,  _ 24, who stars as  _ Kurt Hummel,  _ which earned him critical and fan praise.  _ Malak  _ and  _ Tomlinson  _ were both in  _ Spring Awakening,  _ until  _ Malak _ took a leave from acting to focus on his ill mother, and  _ Tomlinson _ left to star in  _ RENT.  _ Both men have been seen partying together around the city and appear to be very close on social media. Maybe some chemistry will happen on and  _ off  _ camera?  _

**_Glee returns this Thursday, 8/9 central P.M. Only on FOX._ **

Zayn flipped the page so hard, his hand knocked into his coffee and sent it skittering across the floor, rattling loudly as the cup cracked.

  
  


“And cut!” 

Louis and Luke laid on the bed on set, Louis under Luke, Luke’s hands on the outside of Louis’ shoulders, Louis’ arms draped around Luke’s waist. They were both only in boxers and Luke’s feet were cold against Louis’ calves. 

“You guys are doing great,”  Bradley Buecker, their director, told them, while the cameras around them were spun and adjusted. “Just a quick adjustment to the cameras. You know what to do next? Luke, you'll kiss him, then his neck, then a fade out.” 

“Hope those mics aren't too powerful. This one squeaks when you kiss his neck.” Louis went bright red at Luke's words.

“Luke!” Louis laughed out, uncomfortable. “I do not.” 

Luke raised an eyebrow down at him. Louis glared up, pouting. 

Bradley chuckled. “Love the chemistry, y'all almost ready?” He didn't wait for them to answer before turning and checking with a cameraman.

“I hate you,” Louis said with a pout. Luke just laughed. 

“And  _ action! _ ” Went the director. 

Louis squeaked.

Zayn and Louis usually watched the show together, with a drink in one hand and Skype on their laptops. But Zayn couldn't watch this episode. He could barely sit through the episodes where Louis and Luke held hands or kissed, he didn't know how he was supposed to watch Louis fake-lose his virginity. So he sent a text to Louis explaining he needed some studio time and retreated to his home studio. He pinned a design to a dress form and opened his phone. Just to torture himself, he pulled up twitter and searched  _ Louis _ . People were screaming about it, waiting in anticipation. Zayn felt his stomach tighten and closed the app. 

_ Ding dong. _

Zayn left his phone on the table and headed to the front door, figuring it must be an order of wooden buttons being delivered early. 

It wasn't the UPS guy. It was Louis, carrying some fruity pink drinks and a pizza. He lit up when Zayn opened the door. 

“Surprise!” 

“Louis!” Zayn exclaimed. He reached out and grabbed Louis’ shoulder before pulling him into the foyer. Louis put everything down on the side table before wrapping his arms around Zayn, both of them squeezing tight. “What are you doing here?” 

“I have a few days off and missed you. Thought I'd surprise you.” Louis raised his thumbnail to his mouth. “Needed to get away from L.A. too.” Louis awkwardly smiled at Zayn around his nail. “Tell you about it over real New York pizza and shitty strawberry margaritas?” Zayn reached out and wrapped his hand around Louis’ thumb and tugged it out of his mouth. 

“Yeah, come on. You can drop off your bag upstairs.” 

Louis beamed and headed upstairs, and Zayn grabbed the pizza and drinks before going into the living room and setting them up on the coffee table. Louis came downstairs a few minutes later, changed into a hoodie and sweatpants, the sleeves covering his hands and the pant legs rolled up, showing one of his only tattoos, a small triangle behind his ankle bone. He sat on the couch and tucked his feet under himself. Zayn passed over a bottle and opened the pizza box, one side sausage and mushrooms, the other chicken and broccoli. Louis’ mouth watered as he snagged a piece. 

“You can't get this in L.A. The last pizza I had had a cauliflower crust and tofu sausage. Nasty shit,” Louis scoffed. Zayn nudged Louis with his foot and took a bite of his pizza. 

“Are you okay, Lou?”

Louis bit his lip. “I'm fine.” Zayn tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You've been absent from social media, you rarely text me…”

“I text you at least once a day!”

“...just once sometimes, and you just show up here…”

“I had a long weekend!”

“...and you never wear that hoodie because that's Jax’s hoodie and you only wear that when you're feeling especially emotionally vulnerable even though you know you should give it back. So, again. Are you okay?” 

Louis sighed and raised his thumb to his mouth, nibbling on the nail. Zayn reached out and pulled Louis’ hand away from his mouth, before enveloping in both of his, his thumb rubbing along the protruding wrist bone. “What's wrong, Lou?”

Louis sighed. “You know how I've been single for, you know, a while?” Zayn nodded. 

_ “I broke up with Ethan.”  _

_ Zayn furrowed his brow. “You've been dating him a year now. You moved in with him. You met his parents. You went to Greece with him. Ethan could've been the one, Lou!”  _

_ “It wasn't my commitment issues. I walked in on him passed out with a baggie of coke next to him. All I saw was Jax, Zayn. I had a panic attack because of it. He went to the hospital and said he would go to rehab, but I can't do it again. I just, I can't do it again.”  _

_ “I know, Lou, I know.”  _

_ “I think I'll be single for awhile. Single and celibate.”  _

_ Zayn hummed under his breath and nodded. “That sounds good.  _

_ “You wanna join me?” _

_ “Maybe.”  _

_ Louis tightened his lips into something that resembled a smile. _

Zayn nodded. 

Louis sighed. “Well, the studio...they want me and Luke to... _ imply  _ we're dating. Be seen out, interact on social media, be coy if we’re asked about it. The studio will drop some blinds, spread some articles, handle the media.” 

Zayn snagged two bottles off the table and twisted off the tops before passing one to Louis. Zayn took a drink and tipped the bottle to Louis. “What do you want?” 

Louis drew his knees to his chest and rested his chin on his legs. He wrapped one arm around them and the other haphazardly dangled between his fingers. “I want…”  _ You. I want you to kiss me and I want you to want me.  _ “I don't want Luke getting the wrong idea. He's a...sweet guy, somewhere in there, but he's...not bright. And I don't want him to think it means I have feelings for him or that time we slept together...” _ Four or five times. _ “Meant anything to me.” Louis tipped the sweet drink down his throat and swallowed heavily. “People already think we're together, especially after it was leaked we used to live together in New York.” Louis rested his forehead on his knees. 

Zayn reached for his drink and placed both bottles on the table before scooting over and putting an arm around Louis. Louis leaned into his arm, almost falling into his lap. Zayn wrapped a blanket from the back of the couch around them and maneuvered Louis until his legs were draped across his thighs and Louis was halfway in his lap. Louis leaned his head on Zayn's shoulder and listened as their breaths matched. 

“You know what I wish sometimes, Z ?” 

Zayn hummed and ran his fingers down Louis’ back. “What, Lou?”

“I never went to the West End. Went to secondary with you, got into a mid tier college and studied lit. We could’ve been roommates there, yeah?” Zayn hummed in agreement. “You liked art. Could’ve been teachers. Lived in a nice house, Sunday roast, white picket fence.”

“I’m in your fantasy?”

“Course.” Louis’ face settled in a funny kind of smile. “You’re always there.”

“Teachers, huh? Would...would there be kids?”

“Three.” 

Zayn’s thumb began rubbing, up and down, on Louis’ shoulder. “That’s a good number.”

The edge of Louis’ lips quirked into a small smile. “It’d be a good life.” He fiddled with the label on the glass.

“Yeah.” Zayn squeezed Louis’ shoulder lightly. “It would be a good life.”

Louis rested his head on Zayn’s shoulder. “In another life, we’d be happy enough.”

Zayn swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Yeah." He turned and nudged Louis' temple with his nose. “Another life.”

Louis raised his thumbnail to his lips and closed his eyes. "We're happy enough."

_ End. _

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I'm sorry. 
> 
> Second of all, I don't know if these dates line up with the production schedule, I mostly went with shows I know and thought there would be good roles for. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! xx


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